[I. The day was clos'd beneath the shade]
1.
The day was clos'd beneath the shade,
As pensive Celia sat,
For Damon mourn'd the lovely Maid,
And rail'd at envious fate.
Thus to the night she gave her woe,
While hush'd was all the wood,
Still were the winds, the streams ran slow,
And Silence list'ning stood.
2.
Ah! but in vain are tears and sighs,
In vain must Celia mourn,
From me the faithless Damon flies,
And leaves me but his scorn.
Why do the flatt'ring Shepherds say,
Who sees my beauty dies?
Why rob the Sovereign of the Day,
To deck those dreaded eyes?
3.
Nor are those arts to man confin'd,
The limpid streams deceive,
In the soft mirror charms I find,
And what I wish believe.
But what are all these boasted charms;
They cannot Damon move?
For glory now he leaves my arms,
And slights my proffer'd love.
